My Mission
by ozhawk
Summary: Bucky and Wanda meet in deeply awkward circumstances and turn out to be soulmates. Then things get REALLY strange.
1. A New Beginning

**My Mission**

_Bucky/Wanda_

WinterWitch

**Theme song:**

**Kongos – Come With Me Now**

**This is the extension of the original Soulmate Short fic. The clamour of MOAR PLEASE NOW OZHAWK was pretty much deafening for this fic, more than for any other I've written I think.**

**So without further ado – here is the MOAR, beginning with a revised and extended first chapter. It's T rated, so no smut. For once ;)**

**And despite the rather angsty tone of the original, all the ideas put forward led me rather more down a comic path, so I'm trying my hand at romantic comedy and would love to hear what you think of my efforts!**

**Chapter One – A New Beginning**

He woke with a gasp, shuddering, sobbing with agony as the cold burned him from the inside out. _Just like every other time_, a tiny voice seemed to whisper deep inside him, but was gone as soon as he tried to reach for it. There was nothing there. Nothing but blankness.

And then, white-clad technicians, shining lights into his eyes, poking and prodding at him. He looked in their faces, searching for something familiar, but there was nothing. Until the Master came in.

"You are awake, Soldier," the Master said. He spoke in German. It took the Soldier a few moments to process his memory of the language.

"_Jawohl, mein Herr_."

"Good. Come with me."

He followed. The technicians had given him pants but no boots; he was sure-footed, though, did not slip on the tiled floor.

"We have a new asset," the Master told him as he dressed in the plain clothes laid out for him in a briefing room, armed himself with the weapons provided to conceal beneath them. "Your mission is to protect her."

The Soldier acknowledged the order quietly. He followed the Master to another chamber, one which contained two glass-walled cells. One of the cells contained a man; white-haired but youthful, he had his fists pressed against the glass and was shouting something inaudible. The other was empty, but before it stood a young woman. Dark of hair and eye, she was small and pale, wearing a red jacket and black dress. She was staring at the white-haired man.

"Now remember, Wanda," the Master said in a paternal tone, "all you have to do is carry out your mission and everything will be just fine. This is Soldier; he will be your bodyguard."

Her dark eyes passed over him, but she said nothing; and neither did he. He had not been ordered to speak.

"Be off with you, then," the Master waved a negligent hand.

Wanda turned to look once at her brother. He stared at her with agonised eyes, shaking his head. But what could she do? Refuse the order and he would suffer far worse than mere death. "I love you," she mouthed at him, and turned away.

A car and driver took them out of the facility. The Soldier looked around curiously, realising this was not the city he had last gone to sleep in (_where was that, again?_) but it was vaguely familiar. "Where is this place?" he asked the driver, the first words he had spoken save for acknowledging the Master.

"Rome," came the clipped response.

He did not ask what they were doing there. Likely he would not be told. His mission was to guard the girl, that was all.

They were dropped off and the girl looked up at him, a little doubtfully. "Is Soldier the only name you have?" she asked.

"It is the only name I remember," he answered quietly, and wondered why her eyes went so very wide.

"_You_!" she stared into his eyes, reached up a delicate hand to touch his cheek, her eyes drifting closed as she did. "Oh – but what have they _done_ to you!"

He did not understand, only stared at her blankly.

Wanda wanted to weep. She had seen her soulmate in her visions, only vaguely, but in her visions he was strong and confident, a warrior who would protect her, would help Pietro. Not this empty-eyed shell of a man who didn't even remember that he _had_ a soulmark. She glanced quickly about, drew him into a dark alleyway, away from the bustling crowds.

"Is this where we must go for the mission?" he looked about blankly.

"This is my mission," she agreed quietly. Hoping, praying that she could get this right. Closing her eyes, she drew on every thread of probability she could find. Wove them together in her mind, added a chunk of fairytale and a good dollop of hope – and reached up and kissed him, passing the hex to him through her lips.

"What the…" Bucky's eyes flew suddenly wide.

He remembered _everything_. It was all _there_, suddenly, everything that had been wiped from him through the long, bitter years. Gifted back – or was it cursed? – by the kiss of the girl standing before him, watching him with ancient knowledge in her dark eyes. He staggered back, hit the wall, stood there processing for several minutes.

"We have to move," Wanda said at last. "If they don't get word that I've carried out the mission, they'll start torturing Pietro."

"The – guy with the white hair?"

"My brother. He's already suffered too much for me."

"You're my soulmate, aren't you?"

She nodded, an agonised look on her face. "I'm sorry I had to do that to you. I – saw a little bit of it. What you suffered."

He shook his head, trying to clear it. "That doesn't matter now. What matters is gettin' you and your brother away from those bastards."

Her smile was like the sun coming up. "You'll help us?"

"I'll help you," he confirmed gruffly. "It's Wanda, isn't it? I'm Bucky." he reached for her hand and she let him take it with a shy glance up at him. "So, what's this mission we have to complete, doll? 'Cause I'm not in the mood to kill anyone but HYDRA scum."

"Nothing like that. I have to steal a religious relic. We can return it later."

By _steal_ she meant _telekinetically float it out of a church window_, Bucky discovered, shaking his head incredulously. He took the heavy book from her, wrapped it in a silk bag she pulled from her pocket. "Let's go get your brother, doll."

Wanda slipped her hand into his again, smiling happily.

They headed back to the planned pickup, murmuring plans to each other on the way. Separated before they got there, Bucky's face falling back into his blank Soldier expression and Wanda putting on a sulky scowl.

The same driver took them back to the facility. Bucky sat still and silent – and seethed as he saw the driver eyeing Wanda lasciviously in the rear-view mirror. If he found out any of these bastards had _dared_ touch his soulmate – well, they were all going to die anyway, but he'd make sure it was slow and painful.

They'd made the decision that they wouldn't start anything until Bucky had escorted Wanda back to her cell. The Master – who Wanda told him was called Baron von Strucker – would most likely be there, and he was the one Bucky most wanted to kill. He remembered von Strucker all too well, remembered the orders von Strucker had given him over the last fifty or more years. How the man looked no different now than he had in WWII, frankly, Bucky didn't care. It just meant he might be harder to kill.

The big issue was Pietro. The cells were airtight and at the slightest hint of rebellion from Wanda, the air would be sucked from Pietro's cell until he couldn't breathe. She couldn't crack the cell alone, but Bucky reckoned his metal arm could punch right through the reinforced glass.

So they waited their moment. Walked side by side back into the chamber with the two cells on one side. Von Strucker was there, waiting, taking the silk-wrapped book from Bucky's hands with a smile.

"Very good, Wanda," he praised. "Back in your cell, now."

She looked him straight in the eye. "No."

Von Strucker tipped his head and smiled. "Are you quite sure about that, my dear? I wouldn't recommend attacking me, you know. Those who are watching us will make sure that your brother doesn't survive the attempt."

Bucky had wandered over to Pietro's cell as though curious. He looked up into the other man's eyes and mouthed _Get back_.

Pietro frowned quizzically. Bucky gestured, his hand hidden from the rest of the room by his body, and clenched his metal fist, drawing it back.

Pietro's eyes widened. He took two huge steps back and Bucky hit the glass with everything he had.

It fractured. A second blow shattered it and Pietro leaped through, moving across the room with blinding speed to grab Wanda and sweep her aside, out of the way of the fight about to begin.

"No!" von Strucker screamed, and Bucky turned, drawing a knife from under his jacket and throwing it with unerring accuracy into von Strucker's left eye.

Alarms began to blare. Bucky bared his teeth in a smile and beckoned to Wanda, who broke free from her brother's sheltering arms and ran to him.

"Let's blow this joint, doll." He put his arm around her.

"I do hope you mean literally." She smiled up at him, reached to kiss his cheek.

"Very much so."

"What the _hell_?" that was Pietro, speeding to them and grabbing at Wanda's arm. "What are you doing with _him_?"

"Pietro, he's my soulmate," Wanda turned to him, her dark eyes shining. "He can help us get out of here."

Bucky was frowning, looking from one to the other of them. They'd been speaking in German up to that point, though he'd spoken in English to Wanda before when they were out in the city and she'd responded in that language, so he knew she understood it. But they were speaking in a language he didn't know, now. Their native tongue? He hadn't had time to ask Wanda where she came from…

Pietro turned and gave Bucky a very doubtful look as he plucked his knife from von Strucker's eye. The Nazi was very dead, but Bucky professionally cut his throat. Just to be quite, quite sure.

"Brother," Wanda touched Pietro's arm. "Trust me."

He sighed. "You know I hate it when you say that." He looked at Bucky again, calmly cleaning his knife on the dead man's shirt, searching him for weapons. "Your soulmate, you say?"

Wanda smiled proudly. "Isn't he magnificent?"

"That's one word for it."

Bucky found a gun at the small of von Strucker's back. Drew it with a grin. "Time to party."

"I'm really not sure I'm going to like his definition of a party, either."

**Note: I'm not giving Wanda precognition in this story. She has telekinesis, as seen in the CA:TWS post-credits scene, and can manipulate probabilities by casting 'hexes'. She got a little glimpse into Bucky's mind and memories when giving them back to him, but can't read minds with any consistency.**

**And this won't be a daily fic – probably twice-weekly or thereabouts. Enjoy and I'd love to hear what you think so far!**


	2. Escape Plans

**Chapter Two – Escape Plans**

Despite Pietro's reservations, he participated enthusiastically in the 'cleaning up' of the HYDRA facility, using his superspeed to whiz round and disarm guards before they even saw the three coming half the time. And nor did he show any squeamishness about pulling the trigger, though he refused to give Wanda a gun. She sighed and rolled her eyes at him, and turned to Bucky, holding her hand out.

"You know how to use one?"

"Point, go bang."

"In that case, no. Don't want you shooting me or your brother by accident, doll." He grinned down at her, raising the gun in his left hand almost absently and shooting a guard who came running around the corner.

"I don't do _anything_ by accident! Probability powers, remember? A hex on the bullet and I won't miss…"

"I don't miss either. Save your power, doll. We might need it for somethin'."

"He's right, Wanda," Pietro whizzed back over to them for a moment.

"_Men!_" she groused. They grinned at each other over her head, briefly united – _ganging up on her_, she realised with disgust – and then Pietro gave Bucky another doubtful look and whizzed off again.

She stomped after Bucky irritably – filched a gun from a dead guard when his back was turned – only to have Bucky turn and remove it from her hand a moment later.

"I said no, doll."

"I wasn't planning to shoot," she lied. "I just don't like being defenceless."

Blue eyes bored down into hers for a moment, and then he smiled, slowly, and Wanda's heart turned over in her chest.

"Don't use those big pretty eyes on me, doll. You're never defenceless."

_Damn it, he's immune to my wide-eyed innocent expression!_

She kicked the guard's dead body in irritation, and Bucky's expression slowly changed. "Did he hurt you, baby?"

"What?" Puzzled, Wanda looked back up at him. Saw the tic at the corner of his mouth, the way his eyes narrowed menacingly. She couldn't see into his mind, but from his expression she guessed well enough what he was thinking. "No! Bucky, no. They used Pietro to do missions as well, needed him compliant when I was threatened. If they'd ever hurt me like that he'd have gone berserk."

He stared for a moment, head tilted down so he could look in her eyes. Long black hair falling around his stubbled cheeks. And then he nodded. "Okay. But if you want anyone to suffer? You just say the word."

Wanda couldn't help but shiver at the calm way he said it. She'd seen a little of Bucky's memories when she kissed him, gave them back to him. He'd been dangerous as a 'mere' American soldier, but HYDRA had made him into a terrible weapon, and while she could tell he wasn't exactly delighted about that fact, he was also not going to deny it.

He saw the fear in her face, fear of _him_, and ached inside. But right now, she needed the killer, the Winter Soldier, and so that was who he must be, at least until he had her and her brother safely away from here. With a light touch to her pale cheek he tucked the gun she'd picked up into the waistband of his pants and led her onwards.

It was well after midnight when they emerged from the burning facility into the sultry Italian night. Both Wanda and Pietro looked to Bucky for guidance, and he led them swiftly away, taking them off into the darkness, away from the sound of the approaching sirens.

Once she'd accepted that he wouldn't allow her a weapon, Wanda had switched from picking up guns to wallets. She'd amassed quite a collection of euros and a handful of identity papers; none of the images matched their faces all that well but they'd get them through a cursory inspection if required.

Bucky selected an Italian drivers' licence with an image of a tall, black-haired, blue-eyed man and checked them into a scruffy dive of a hotel in the outskirts of the city, the kind of place that rented rooms by the hour and didn't bother actually entering details into a computer. The clerk didn't turn a hair at two men and one woman renting just one room.

"Don't sit on it, Wanda," Pietro said when they entered the room and she sighed and made to sit on the bed. "It's probably extremely unhygienic."

"Get over yourself," she rolled her eyes at him and flopped down. "I'm tired."

"Would you two mind speaking in a language I understand?" Bucky asked in English, heading to the window and checking outside, drawing the stained curtains more tightly closed.

Pietro hesitated and then switched to English. "I'm sorry. That was rude. I'm Pietro Maximoff. Thanks for helping us."

"Bucky Barnes, and you're welcome." He smiled down at Wanda, lying at her ease on the bed. "Anything for Wanda." She smiled back at him softly.

"Ugh, help, I'm trapped with two cooing lovebirds," Pietro groused as the two of them lost themselves staring into each other's eyes. Wanda threw a pillow at him without looking. He dodged it easily. "Seriously, is there any chance you two could just _save it for later_? Because we really need to figure out what the hell we're going to do. Where we're going to go."

The smile slipped from Wanda's face at that and she sat up, hugging her knees. "We can't go home."

"There is no home," Pietro agreed quietly, sitting down and putting his arm around her thin shoulders. She leaned into him.

"Where _was_ home?" Bucky leaned against the wall, folding his arms.

They both smiled sadly. "Not a place," Wanda replied. "A people. We're Gypsies, Bucky. Romany. Our tribe travelled in what you'd call Hungary and Romania. But they're gone. All of them. Von Strucker butchered every last one of them when he took us."

Pietro hugged her tighter. "He's dead, Wanda. Gone."

"It doesn't bring them back." A single tear slid down her cheek, and Bucky found himself on his knees at her feet, reaching for her hand.

"Baby, please don't. Please don't cry. We'll make a new home for us – all of us."

"But _where_?" Pietro said despairingly. "HYDRA will be hunting for us. There's nowhere safe."

"I might know somewhere," Bucky said slowly. "Or rather – someone. Someone who could help. He's _my_ tribe, I guess you could say. All that's left of it."

Wanda looked at him curiously. "He must be very old?"

Pietro looked at her, and then at Bucky. "Why – how old are _you_?"

"I don't precisely know," he admitted, "because I've spent a lot of time over the years frozen. They put me in cold storage, in between missions. In terms of years lived I guess I'm in my thirties somewhere?"

Pietro sucked in a disapproving breath. And then looked even more horrified as Bucky completed his confession.

"But I was born in 1917."

"_Bloody hell fire_!" Pietro was on his feet instantly, moving too fast to see, shoving between him and Wanda. "Bad enough if you were more than a decade older than her, but that…"

"How old are you two?" Bucky asked curiously. Wanda was getting up too, tugging at Pietro's arm and telling him not to be ridiculous.

"Twenty-two," Wanda answered.

"Are we?" Pietro blinked at her, surprised.

"Yes, I saw the date when I was out today. Which means I'm legally of age in pretty much any culture, Pietro, even ours."

"I'm our tribal elder, now…"

"Don't _even_ start. Just because you're ten minutes older…"

Bucky found himself grinning as they degenerated into sibling bickering. He even understood Pietro's upset. The thought of an older guy turning out to be soulmated to _his_ sister… the smile slid from his face as he thought of Rebecca. Little Becca. Was she even still alive? She'd be an old lady, now, if so.

"Enough," he said finally. "Enough!" when they carried on bickering. "I daresay you'll both agree that _I'm_ the eldest, here? And since we're all each other has, that makes _me_ the tribal elder. That means_ I _make the decisions."

They both gave him resentful looks for that, and he smiled to soften the impact. "With input from both of you. So, since it seems that I'm the only one who might, possibly, know someone who can help us, are you two okay with me trying to track him down?"

They looked at each other. Pietro shrugged eventually, and Wanda smiled. "I trust you, Bucky. If you think this old friend of yours can help us, then I'm good with that."

"Okay. Well, I'm going to need to do some research, to find him. So I guess maybe we go find a library or something?"

Wanda smirked. "You have been out of the loop for a while, haven't you? Leave it to me."

"Oh no, you're not going out alone!" Pietro said when she headed for the door.

"Oh yes I am. Because you two are both way too distinctive-looking. Me, I'm just a dark-haired, dark-eyed girl on the streets of Rome, one of millions. Nobody will notice me. I'll make sure of it." She smirked again and was gone, leaving both of them clenching their fists in impotent fury because she was quite correct.

She returned less than half an hour later with a tablet and a phone, both of which she'd caused to be 'absent-mindedly' left behind when their owners finished their early morning coffee. Dawn was breaking outside and the streets were beginning to come alive.

Bucky muttered over the Italian setup of the tablet, frustratedly tapping at icons. He did speak a fair bit of Italian, but not well enough to look up what he needed to know. Wanda slipped it out of his hand.

"Let me. Who are you looking for?"

"Captain America."

They both stared at him open-mouthed.


	3. An Unlikely Story

**Chapter Three – An Unlikely Story**

It was the middle of the night when JARVIS woke Steve from a rare deep sleep with the information that there was an important call he should take.

"Rogers," he said into the phone, wondering who on earth it could be.

"Hey, punk. Couple of friends and I could use a ride."

Steve actually took the phone from his ear and stared at it for a moment. Then put it back to his ear.

"_Bucky?_" he whispered incredulously.

"That's me. I'm back."

"_How?_"

"It's a kinda complicated and unlikely story involving a very beautiful woman," Bucky said, and Steve couldn't help but start to laugh, certain now that it really _was_ Buck.

"When were your stories _not_ complicated and unlikely and starring a beautiful woman?"

"Those ones were pretty much all made up. This one's true and way stranger than a pulp."

"Okay," Steve tried hard to compartmentalise, to deal with the crazy joy bubbling up inside him. _Bucky. It's really Bucky. Somehow_. "You said you needed a ride. Where are you?"

"Rome."

"Rome, Italy?"

"There's another Rome?"

"Yeah, in Texas – you know what, never mind. I'll fly over and get you."

"Not here, though." Bucky was watching over Wanda's shoulder. She'd brought up a news channel on the tablet and was watching a broadcast already featuring images of all of their faces as 'wanted terrorists'. "We need to get out of the city. We'll head south: I reckon they'll be expecting us to head north, into France or Switzerland, maybe try to head back east to where my friends come from. I reckon we head south, make for the coast and steal a fishin' boat somewhere…"

At the other end of the line, Steve was grinning. It really was Bucky, coming up with a brilliant plan on the spur of the moment. Just as he used to when they were kids, and later with the Howling Commandos. "You're the man on the spot, Buck. Call me when you're ready. We'll get over there and wait for your call. Just, um, one question?"

"You always ask a million questions, punk, what makes you think you can stop at one this time?"

"I'll try. Who are your 'friends'?"

"Well," Bucky looked down at Wanda, seated on the edge of the bed, and at Pietro who had fallen asleep with his head against his sister's leg, "That very beautiful woman I was talkin' about? She's my soulmate. And she and her brother have been havin' some trouble. The multi-headed mythological monster kind of trouble." He didn't want to say HYDRA out loud.

There was silence at the other end of the line for a moment, and then Steve said incredulously; "Your _soulmate_?"

"Yeah." Bucky couldn't stop looking at Wanda. She was so lovely, with her pointed chin and magnificent eyes. She looked up at him as he caressed his free hand lightly over her dark hair, leaned into his touch. "Yeah, I found her, Stevie. She saved me, and then I saved her. I'm not gonna chance losing her."

"All right," Steve's voice was quiet. "We'll wait for your call, Buck. We've got a plane that can land anywhere, we don't need a runway. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon, punk," Bucky said, and clicked the phone off, tossing it onto the bed.

Wanda reached up and took his hand, lacing her fingers with his and pulling him down to sit beside her. It already felt so natural to wrap his arm around her, to have her lean her head on his shoulder as they looked at the tablet screen together. She had the volume turned down very low but he could hear it clearly, hear that the three of them were wanted fugitives.

_HYDRA hadn't wasted any time_, Bucky thought wryly. Obviously there'd been other agents apart from those in the facility; well of course there would have been. They'd trashed the place in the middle of the night and better than half the staff would probably have been at home in their beds. With von Strucker dead they might be temporarily leaderless, but it wouldn't be long before someone stepped up to fill his shoes.

They needed to get clear before HYDRA got any more organised. With that in mind, he stroked his fingers lightly over Wanda's hand.

"You got any ideas, doll? Because you seem to be far more familiar with the modern world than I am. I've only been let out to kill and then fridged again right after, for many years."

Her fingers tightened on his, and she leaned into him a bit more for a moment before turning her face up to his.

"My power works by manipulating probability. So I can get us a car, easy. Make it likely that anyone looking for us will just not recognise us, especially if we can change our appearance a bit."

He was looking at her utterly puzzled. Wanda sighed. "Okay." She held up the tablet. "What would happen if I threw this at that wall?"

Bucky shrugged. "It might break. Might just fall to the floor."

"But it would definitely hit the wall and then fall, wouldn't it? As long as none of us tried to stop it?"

"Yeah…"

"That is a _certainty_. Not a probability. I can't do anything to change that. What I _can_ affect is what happens when it hits the wall. I can make it shatter into a hundred pieces – or I can make sure it falls to the floor without a scratch."

"Ah," Bucky suddenly got it. "So if something's possible, you can make it more _likely_."

"Yes. So it's quite possible that someone juggling a briefcase and his phone and car keys and maybe a hot coffee, might drop his car keys as he walks away from his car – and also possible that he might not notice until he finishes work and has to drive home."

"Clever. And I suppose the more likely something is, the easier it is for you to ensure it?"

"Exactly. So if we're disguised, it's less likely that we'll be recognised, which makes it easier for me to ensure that we _won't_ be. Which means we need a change of clothes each, and a hat to cover Pietro's hair, and some sunglasses for all of us, but especially you because you have such distinctive eyes." Wanda lost herself staring into those blue eyes for a long, long moment.

Bucky was leaning in for a kiss when Pietro cleared his throat behind them.

"Any chance you two could hold off on the revolting face-sucking thing I can tell you want to do until I'm, you know, _not actually in the fucking room_?"

Wanda sighed against Bucky's lips, he actually felt the soft brush of her tender mouth. And was tempted to just pretend Pietro hadn't spoken. But the twins were obviously close, and he really did want to stay on Pietro's good side. So he leaned back and looked at the other man.

"In my defence, you _were_ asleep."

He got raised eyebrows for that, and then Pietro climbed off the bed and headed over to the window, clearly jittery. "I'm hungry. And we need to move."

Wanda sighed and stood up. "All right. Leave it to me." And off she went again, leaving two very worried men behind her.

It was more than an hour before she returned, and Bucky was almost frantic, but trying to hide it because Pietro was clearly panicking. But finally the door handle turned and Wanda entered, eyeing them both and rolling her eyes.

"I promise you the chances of anyone spotting me were pretty much zero even without using my powers," she said dryly, dumping a couple of bags on the bed. And then she waved a set of car keys with a grin. "I got everything we need."

Pietro was already investigating the contents of the bags, one of which was exuding enticing smells. It appeared that Wanda had stopped by a _pasticceria_, the bag contained fresh pastries and bread.

Bucky stared as Pietro groaned with pleasure, biting into a bread roll. He made no move to help himself, though.

"Bucky?" Wanda said softly, touching his arm. "Aren't you hungry?"

It had been so long since he'd eaten real food. Eaten anything other than a protein shake or a cold meal ration. It smelled amazing but – he honestly wasn't sure if his stomach would take it. He mumbled as much to Wanda, who stared at him, trying to conceal her pity. Pietro didn't bother.

"Sheesh, you've had an even tougher time of it than us."

"Pietro!" Wanda glared at her brother. Drew Bucky to sit down, gently. "Here. We'll need to get you used to normal foods, then. Let's start small." She took a plain bread roll, broke it apart and offered him a piece. "Try this."

He took it from her hand hesitantly, bit in – and almost groaned as the taste exploded on his tongue.

It was the best thing he'd ever eaten. He remembered, in the distant past, a few fancy meals in nice restaurants, but damned if anything had ever tasted as good as this simple crusty roll.

Wanda made him eat slowly in case it upset his stomach. But she did let him have a second one when he'd finished the first and felt all right.

Pietro ate like a ravening wolf. Wanda explained quietly that he needed to refuel after using his super-speed so much last night. It burned a phenomenal amount of calories and he had to replenish them quickly or he could fall into a coma. From the way she watched every bite into Pietro's mouth, Bucky suspected that had actually happened. That HYDRA had been somewhat careless with these two assets. He gritted his teeth. What had his Wanda suffered?

She wasn't eating. He pressed her gently to take something.

"Using my power doesn't burn energy like Pietro's does," she replied absently.

"No, but breathing does. And walking around, both of which you've been doing for a fair few hours without a break. Eat something, Wanda. For me." She was too slender anyway, all skin and bones. He felt a sudden urge to feed her up, to cosset her, to see her thin face fill out into true beauty. "For me," he repeated softly, finger brushing over her cheek.

She smiled shyly up at him, selected one of the few pastries Pietro hadn't demolished yet, and bit into it.

While the twins finished eating, Bucky investigated the clothes she'd brought. Plain and simple, they'd indeed help them blend in. The hoodie he guessed was for Pietro, to hide his distinctive white hair, and passed that over before stripping unselfconsciously.

Wanda choked on a crumb. Pietro clapped his hand over his sister's eyes.

"Sheesh, Barnes, take it in the bathroom, will you?"

Bucky blinked before realising suddenly that he wasn't in HYDRA's facilities any more, wasn't expected to strip off his gear before being hosed down and put in the cryo chamber. And he'd just stripped his clothes off in front of his young, _innocent_ soulmate…

"Shit, sorry!" he grabbed the new things, backed into the bathroom. "Wasn't thinking!"

The worst part was, he could see Wanda peeking at him around Pietro's hand over her eyes. "I'm not complaining about the view," she murmured quietly, but Bucky heard, and his cheeks burned red before he hastily shut the door.

**Bucky's making assumptions about Wanda's experience, or lack thereof, I know. He isn't wrong, though. In my headcanon, the twins recently turned 22 and HYDRA have held them for 7 years, so they were mid-teens when they were last free, but they have spent small amounts of time out in the world since, so they're not as out of the loop as Bucky is.**


	4. First World Issues

**Chapter Four – First World Issues**

They were all changed and ready to go fifteen minutes later. Wanda handed Bucky a set of car keys as they were walking out the door, and he hesitated.

"Darlin' – the last time I drove a car was in 1944. I'm pretty sure they're a bit different these days."

"Oh, shit!" she gave him a wide-eyed, panicky look, and then cast one at Pietro. "But neither of us have ever learned to drive, we weren't even fifteen when HYDRA took us!"

"I drove a tractor that one time," Pietro murmured, and Wanda groaned.

"I'm willing to try," Bucky said. "I've been in plenty of cars in recent years. Just never driven one. I can probably figure it out…"

"We have to," she decided in the end. "Public transport's way too risky. They probably _know_ that none of us can drive so they'll really be watching the trains and buses."

At least she'd chosen a fairly simple car to steal, a Fiat, not some fancy sports car, Bucky thought as they got in. Pietro sat in the front passenger seat and he and Wanda explained which pedal did what, and then Wanda sat behind Bucky and put her fingertips on his shoulders very lightly.

"Just making it less likely that we'll crash," she murmured as he met her eyes in the rear-view mirror.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, doll," he said dryly, which made her giggle.

Considering the way Italians drove and how rusty Bucky was, Bucky suspected that Wanda had to exert her power quite a lot to ensure that they didn't have a crash on the way out of the city. Once on the _autostrada_ heading southeast towards Naples at a steady speed, she sat back, but he sensed that she was ready to leap into action at any moment.

Pietro was extremely tense in the front seat, wincing and pressing on an imaginary brake pedal regularly. Bucky tried not to growl at him and asked him to navigate using the map they'd found in the glove box instead. They'd dumped the phone and tablet – Wanda said they could be tracked once the owner figured out they were missing – after wiping the browsing and call history.

Bucky had decided they'd turn east after Naples, head across to the eastern coast and the city of Bari, which he vaguely recalled visiting during the war. He suspected he'd be able to give Steve enough verbal clues without naming the place, to create a good spot for pickup near there. It would probably be about a four to five hour drive, at their current speeds, well below the limit to avoid attracting attention.

Not that Italians seemed to care about the speed limit – he winced as a red Ferrari went past doing about a hundred and forty miles an hour.

They had to make a stop for gas, trying to act casual and unobtrusive. Bucky was somewhat horrified when they got back in the car to discover that Wanda has appropriated another smartphone.

"You're a terrible thief, that's going to have to stop," he said disapprovingly.

"I resent that, I'm actually a very good thief," Wanda gave him a mischievous grin as he looked at her in the mirror, frowning. "Even better than Pietro, for all his speed. Because the people I've pickpocketed are always convinced they just lost whatever I stole…"

"That's not what I meant," Bucky said sternly.

"I know." She sobered, met his eyes. "Needs must, Bucky. The guy I stole this from was driving a Lamborghini. I was just Robin Hood-ing a little."

"He probably doesn't get the reference," Pietro said snarkily.

"Thank you, we did have stories about legendary medieval figures back in the forties, there was even an Errol Flynn movie. I get the reference," Bucky responded dryly. "Robbing from the rich and giving to the deserving poor, right?"

Pietro slow-clapped. Bucky gave him side-eye. Wanda ignored the pair of them and carried on playing with the phone, only glancing up if Bucky had to apply the brakes on the car. He was getting the hang of driving the modern vehicle, though. It was actually easier than a forties car if he ignored all the buttons on the dash.

"Wow," Wanda said after a few minutes, "HYDRA might not be quite as powerful as we'd thought. Seems they've suffered a few setbacks in recent months. Mostly due to your friend the Captain."

Bucky couldn't help but grin. "Stevie always did enjoy spokin' their wheels."

"Yes, well, the rest of the world don't seem too happy about neo-Nazis attempting to take over a major global security organisation, either. It's all over Twitter that the place we blew yesterday was HYDRA and there've already been dozens of arrests…"

"What's Twitter?" Bucky focussed on the one word in the sentence that he didn't understand. "And how do you know so much about this tech, doll? Thought you'd been locked up for nine years, and I remember nine years ago, phones weren't nearly as fancy as that…"

"Twitter is – you know what, I'll just show you later. It'll be simpler. As for the rest," Wanda shrugged, "yes, we've been held prisoner, but we weren't isolated. Some of the guards even talked to us. There was this one guy, kinda nice. He blocked outgoing communications but let me play with his phone."

It was stupid of Bucky to feel jealous because Wanda had befriended a prison guard. His jaw clenched nonetheless. "Was he one of the guards who died last night?" he asked carefully.

"No. He stopped being on duty about four months ago. Right about the time HYDRA came out of the shadows within SHIELD – hmm, I wonder if he was a double agent? I hope he didn't get caught," Wanda murmured, and Bucky's irrational jealousy increased.

Pietro's frantic pressing on the imaginary brake pedal made him realise that he was pushing the Fiat way too fast, and he eased slowly back, steadying the car back into the stream of traffic.

They got to Bari and Bucky drove on through the city to the south before asking Wanda for the phone and calling Steve again. He could hear what sounded like an aircraft in the background behind Steve and guessed he was in the air.

"Where are you, bud?" Steve asked.

"You remember that night when Gabe and Jacques dragged us out to a local bar and we bet on cockroach races?" Bucky said obliquely.

Steve was silent for a moment, obviously thinking back. "Yeah."

"We're about twenty miles south of that bar."

"Okay." Murmurs in the background as he spoke to someone else; a pilot, Bucky guessed. "Right – we can be with you in about forty minutes. Can you keep that phone on? We can track the signal when we get close. Will anyone be looking for it?"

"Doubt it. It was stolen about a hundred miles from here and won't have been missed yet." He glanced at Wanda.

"It won't be missed for hours," she said confidently, and he shrugged.

"I'll keep it on, punk. Don't be late now."

He heard Steve huff out a laugh before the line cut out. Handing the phone back to Wanda, he looked at her. "He says about forty minutes."

"Well," she shaded her eyes, looking around, "why don't we leave the car somewhere? Find a nice isolated spot for him to pick us up?"

They let Wanda pick a spot, drove the car in between some large trees and abandoned it with the keys in. Pietro took off his hoodie and used it to wipe over pretty much every surface in the car, muttering something about fingerprints, which had Bucky confused. That said, he was quite happy for Pietro to be busy and distracted. It meant he could wander up to where Wanda was leaning against a tree, fiddling with the phone again, and nonchalantly lean his arm against the trunk just above her head.

She looked up at him, her soft, pretty mouth curving in a smile. "Bucky."

"Hey, doll," his eyes half-lidded as he looked down at her, and Wanda gulped a little nervously. Slid the phone into the pocket of her jacket. She couldn't help but lick her lips under that intense blue stare, and a moment later Bucky was kissing her very thoroughly indeed.

He was the first, the _only_ man who'd ever kissed her. Oh, there'd been a couple of boys, back when they were with the Romani, but she'd been still a child then, barely in her teens, without awareness of what really went on between men and women. She still didn't have all that much of an idea. She'd seen the way men looked at her; one or two guards had even crudely jacked off in front of her cell, not that they'd ever dared to touch her. And she knew how basic biology worked.

Actually being kissed by Bucky Barnes was a whole new ball game, however. His lips were warm and soft, his tongue playing with hers in light, teasing flickers that made her melt against him and clutch at his arms, needing something to support her suddenly rubbery legs. One strong arm wrapped around her waist – the metal one, she realised, because his human hand was running gently into her hair, tilting her face at the perfect angle for him to kiss her even more thoroughly.

"Knock it off, you two," Pietro's exasperated voice separated them finally. "I think our ride's here." He gestured upwards.

Bucky couldn't help flinch at the sight of the quinjet settling gracefully to earth. He'd been in too many of those in the last few years as the Winter Soldier. Half-expected Rumlow or Rollins to come striding out now, ordering him in to take him back to base. But it was Steve who came down the ramp, his golden hair shining in the sunlight, a joyous if slightly wary smile on his face.

"Bucky," he said, grinning, then spied Wanda in the circle of his arms, pinned between him and the tree, "wow, you weren't kidding about the beautiful dame!"

Bucky's arms tightened around Wanda and she felt rather than heard the subliminal growl he let out.

"Now now, play nice," she told him with a soft chuckle. "I'm _yours_, Bucky. Soulmates, remember?"

Bucky let out a rueful laugh. "Yeah, I know. I'm bein' awful. Time was, the girls always used to look at me, but after Stevie got big, I didn't get a look-in. I'm just scared you'll take one look at all that big blond prettiness and forget all about me."

Wanda smiled up at him, shaking her head lovingly. "Silly man." Her fingertips caressed his stubbled jaw lightly. "Come on. Introduce us to your friend."

**As always, I'd love to hear what you think!**


	5. Old And New Friends

**Chapter Five – Old and New Friends**

Steve watched as Bucky walked towards him, the brunette's hand held tightly in his, the wary-eyed platinum blond man trailing along behind. And it truly was _Bucky_, not the blank-eyed, lost man he'd fought in Washington DC; this really was his old friend, even if his hair was far too long and the dapper Bucky would never have been caught with a growth of beard like that. There was the familiar spark of mischief in his blue eyes, though. The protective swagger in his gait as he stayed close to his soulmate.

And who was she, this mysterious woman who was Bucky's soulmate? Wide dark eyes fixed on him, and he realised she was very young, barely out of her teens if that.

"Hi," he said with a smile. "I'm Steve Rogers."

Wanda was too shy to speak. Bucky could feel her withdrawing, trying to hide behind him. Holding her hand firmly, he said; "This is Wanda Maximoff, Steve, and her twin brother Pietro. Wanda's my soulmate. And both of them were being held prisoner by HYDRA."

Steve's mouth firmed into a hard line. "Then you're welcome with us," he said evenly, meeting first Wanda's eyes, then Pietro's. "We can find a place for you, whatever it is you want to do."

Pietro sucked in his breath, his blue eyes going very wide, and he seemed almost on the verge of bolting. Wanda yanked her hand free of Bucky's and grabbed at him. "Pietro!"

"What the hell?" Steve said in an undertone to Bucky, as they watched Pietro bend almost double, nearly hyperventilating, Wanda petting his back and muttering to him in that unfamiliar language.

"Beats me," Bucky shrugged, confused.

They stood watching for a moment, and then Bucky felt rather than saw Steve staring at him.

"Wotcha lookin' at, punk?" he turned his head and gave Steve a half-smile.

"Don't give me that, Buck! Last time I saw you…"

"Last time you saw _Bucky_, he was fallin' off a train," Bucky said quietly, the smile falling off his face. "That - _thing _they made me into, the Asset - that wasn't Bucky. I've got his memories, but - that wasn't _me_."

He wasn't actually at all surprised by the roughness of the hug. He returned it gladly, let Steve try to crush his ribs for a good minute before knocking on Steve's back with his metal fist.

"Enough, punk, or my girl will start to get worried."

That made Steve chuckle hoarsely. His eyes were suspiciously watery when he pulled back. "We got a lot to catch up on, Buck."

"Tell me about it, but in the middle of the Italian countryside don't seem like quite the right spot, somehow. Let me go and try to sort that out," he nodded to where Pietro was still clinging to Wanda, "and we can get moving."

He approached cautiously, not wanting to startle the siblings. "Wanda, darlin'? Any chance we could take this someplace else safer? Like, in that nice aeroplane Stevie's brought?"

Wanda whispered in her own language to Pietro, and after a moment the blond boy nodded, straightening up from his hunched posture. He seemed to be clamping his lips shut and biting on them hard, considering how white they were.

"You going to tell me what the problem is?" Bucky asked gently.

Pietro shook his head. Wanda nudged at him. "He's being foolish. Your friend said his soulmate words."

"He did?" Bucky said, startled. "Oh - do you prefer guys to girls?"

Pietro hung his head, red-cheeked, looking shamefaced.

"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!"

"But he's _Captain America_!" Pietro burst out. "I'm quite sure he's not - not _gay_!"

Bucky grinned, slinging an arm around Pietro's shoulders, taking Wanda's hand with his free hand. "I'm quite sure he _is_, my boy. As more than one _very _satisfied member of our old company could tell you, if they were still around to ask."

"Oh! Really?" Pietro peeked at Steve under his eyelashes as they drew closer.

"Sure. But you're not gonna find out if he's your soulmate unless you say somethin', so… how about it?" Bucky kept his arm bracingly around the younger man's shoulders as they stopped in front of Steve.

Pietro gulped. And then he gabbled out in a rush of words; "I think you might be my soulmate, only I'm sure I couldn't be that lucky because you're, well, _you_."

Steve did an excellent impression of a startled fish.

"Toldja," Bucky said with a chuckle. "Ain't we lucky, Stevie, findin' brother and sister to be our soulmates?"

"Unnn," was about all Steve managed to get out.

Wanda was smiling too, and she let go of Bucky's hand and gave her brother a little push. "Go _on_, Pietro. We won't look."

"Who won't look?" a voice interrupted, "And at what? Are we ready to go yet, Cap, what's the hold up?"

Bucky reached instinctively for a weapon as another man came striding down the jet's rear ramp. Broad-shouldered, average in height, he had thickly muscled arms shown off to advantage by his sleeveless black tac jacket, short blond hair and a lived-in sort of face. Crinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth seemed to indicate that he smiled often.

"Clint," Steve said, at the same moment that Wanda and Pietro both gasped;

"Hans!"

"Well, well, if it isn't the Trouble Twins," Clint's grin was broad. "Oh, uh, I'm not HYDRA, by the way…"

"We kind of guessed that, when you disappeared," Wanda replied, and much to Bucky's, and indeed Clint's, surprise, she hurried forward and gave him a hug. "I'm glad you're all right," she told him sincerely.

Clint returned the hug a bit awkwardly. "You too." His eyes were on Bucky, though, wide and wary. "Cap, we're quite sure this is all on the level? No traps?"

Bucky nodded approvingly at him. "Good, I'm glad to see _someone _around Stevie has the sense to think of these sorts of things. He has a tendency to rush in headfirst not caring if there's a trap or not."

Clint started to grin. Offered his hand. "Clint Barton, also known as Hawkeye. Archer extraordinaire."

"Bucky Barnes," he shook the offered hand, hesitated slightly. "Formerly known as the Winter Soldier."

"I gathered that," was the dust-dry reply. "As long as it's definitely _formerly_, we won't have any problems."

"No problems," Bucky agreed. "I'm guessing you were the friendly prison guard Wanda told me about?" He'd felt a bit jealous when Wanda talked about the man who'd let her play with his phone, but he felt no such emotion now. Not with Clint's distinctly paternal attitude. He was probably in his early forties, too, old enough to actually be the twins' father.

"I was," Clint agreed, "and when Cap here blew SHIELD and HYDRA wide open, I had to run for my life. No time to get you two out," he apologised, "and by the time I got back with reinforcements, you'd already been moved on."

"It's all right," Wanda reassured his self-recriminating expression. "I still had to meet Bucky. And the things you taught me with your phone came in very handy today in helping us get away."

Pietro and Steve had taken no part in the conversation, just edging slowly closer together, staring at each other. Fingertips just brushed for a moment, shy smiles were exchanged, and then Steve seemed to recall just where they were.

"We'd better get out of here," he said, turning to Clint. "We can have happy reunions later. Time to get Bucky, Wanda and Pietro to safety."

"You're the boss," Clint said equably, and gestured to them to enter the jet.

It wasn't as utilitarian as the SHIELD/HYDRA quinjets Bucky had travelled on so many times. It was much more nicely equipped, with thickly padded jumpseats instead of plain hard benches. Clint made his way forward to the pilot's seat, calling over his shoulder;

"Wheels up in two!"

Wanda looked uncertainly at the straps, so Bucky urged her gently to sit down, pulling them down over her shoulders. "These jets are pretty smooth in flight but landing and takeoff can be bumpy. Don't want you to hit your beautiful head now."

She smiled shyly at him, her eyes dropping to where his hands were pulling the straps down over her breasts. Which made Bucky fumble at the simple task and Wanda giggle.

He seated himself beside her, cheeks still a little red. She put her hand over and took his, but it was the metal hand and he couldn't really feel her, so he put his other hand on top and stroked her fingers gently.

"'M sorry," Bucky mumbled. "I've forgotten, if I ever knew, how to behave around a nice girl."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, uncaring that it was unyielding metal beneath the thin fabric of his jacket. "I'm just happy that you think I'm a _nice girl_."

He turned his head to kiss the top of her hair. "You're the _only _girl, doll."

She smiled as the jet's engines rose to a hissing roar and they lifted off.

Both Wanda and Pietro fell asleep within minutes, Pietro's head lolling onto Steve's shoulder. Steve kept smiling down at him with an incredulous look on his face.

"Where the hell did you find them, Buck? And - what happened to you?" Steve asked finally, looking over at his oldest friend.

"They found me, actually. Well, Wanda did. They're both powered, Stevie. Pietro's fast - _way _faster than anyone I've ever seen, and that includes you."

Steve raised eyebrows at that. Bucky nodded before continuing. "And Wanda does this weird thing where she can affect probability. I don't really understand how it works, she says if something is _possible _she can make it more _likely_. Something like that. Anyway, once she figured that I was her soulmate, she messed with the probabilities - I guess it was _possible _that I'd spontaneously regain my memories, so she was able to make it happen. She kissed me and it all came floodin' back. All of it."

Steve winced.

"I'm sorry, Stevie…"

"Please don't apologise! God, Buck, I know about some of what they did to you - we found a cryo chamber, and that horrible chair, and _records…_"

Now he understood why Steve looked so green. And now he thought about it, it should be affecting him more. At the very least, he should have a raging case of PTSD. _Huh. Maybe Wanda had messed with that probability too._ She did seem to have a very fix-it mentality.

"Look," he said quietly, "I'd rather not talk about it, if it's all the same to you? It's all kind of hazy anyway."

Steve frowned, chewed on his lip. Bucky couldn't help but stare at him. "Maybe you could explain to me how the _hell _you still appear the same, though?" he asked. "Because I'm pretty damn sure HYDRA didn't put you in cryo too! I - was at that exhibition at the Smithsonian, and it said sumthin' about you crashing a warplane into the Arctic?"

Steve smiled wryly. "Ah. Yes. Well, yeah, that happened. I guess we've got a lot to catch up on."

Bucky raised an eyebrow meaningfully. "I'm thinking now's a good time to start, ya punk."

That finally made Steve laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is." And he drew a deep breath. "Well. After you - after you fell off the train…"

The jet flew on into the darkening sky, the controls in Hawkeye's steady hands, while in the rear the brother and sister slept against the broad shoulders of their soulmates and two old friends talked long into the night of times long past and friends long gone.

**I hate to do this, guys, but I've genuinely run out of inspiration for this story. So… I'm gonna mark it complete and move on to work on other things. Hope you enjoyed and sorry it's taken me so long to finish off!**


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